Lost Souls

by Jenny O'Brien

  A quick peep at her watch told her that it was time for their catch-up. But instead of gaining everyone’s attention, she withdrew a twenty from her purse and made for the door without alerting anyone to her actions – they probably wouldn’t notice anyway.

  Within minutes she was back, a circular tin tray clasped between her fingers, which she placed on the table at the front of the room.

  ‘Right then, while we’re waiting for the kitchen to make our sandwiches out of some sliced ham that wouldn’t recognise a pig even if it oinked, I thought you’d appreciate something cold. Sadly not beer,’ she said, pulling the ring on a can of Diet Coke and taking a restorative sip.

  She waited until everyone had a drink, her hand swapping the can for a black marker pen as she stood in front of the whiteboards.

  ‘News from me, then we’ll take it in turns. Diane and I have interviewed Janice Stevens and it’s clear that she’s hiding something, bearing in mind that I know the woman … well. On the face of it, she has no idea where her son is but I can’t believe that for a minute. There was no hope in detaining her any longer – we were lucky that we managed to keep her overnight. There’s still that outstanding blood to be addressed – Jason will be down shortly with an update. Diane, do you have anything to add?’

  ‘Only that I’ve just come off the phone to Stevens’s work. I wanted to speak to her about a query in her statement,’ she replied, setting her mobile back on her desk.

  ‘There’s a query in her statement?’ Gaby frowned.

  ‘No. I was using it as an excuse to check up on her whereabouts,’ she said, colour storming up her cheeks. ‘I thought that with the pressure of the ongoing search, my colleagues might have overlooked the request we put in to keep track of her. After all she did say she was going back to the office. Did I do something wrong?’

  ‘No. You did exactly what the rest of us would have … if only we’d thought of it. Carry on.’

  ‘The upshot is that she’s not there. Personal reasons.’

  ‘And I take it that she’s not at home and her car isn’t in the driveway?’ Gaby asked, her frown reappearing at the slight nod of Diane’s head.

  ‘Sorry, ma’am.’

  ‘It’s not your fault, Diane. Far from it. Check that there’s an ANPR trace on her car ASAP.’

  ‘I’m right on it,’ she said, picking up the phone.

  ‘Good.’ Gaby lifted her head to find Jax racing down the corridor. He didn’t need to tell her that he had news; his expression managed that all by itself. She was less impressed with his tracksuit bottoms and sweat-marked top but decided to wait until he’d settled behind his desk before pouncing.

  ‘Am I right in thinking that you have something for us, Jax? If your choice of clothing is anything to go by, it had better be good.’ She sent him a brief smile, angling her head in the direction of the depleted tray of cans. ‘Never let it be said I overwork my staff so choose a drink.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am. It was this or my suit, which is now only fit for the bin.’ She watched him pop open a Fanta and take a long gulp, his Adam’s apple working overtime. He only spoke when the can was empty. ‘We’ve found Ellie Fry’s clothes, well most of them at least, and there’s blood on the T-shirt and jeans.’ He drew the back of his hand across his mouth to mop up a drop of liquid. ‘I know I was meant to be focusing on the train and bus station but I decided to take a little detour first and check all the bins on the way.’

  ‘You had a hunch?’ Gaby asked, trying and failing to identify his thought processes because nowhere in any of their catch-ups had anyone mentioned checking the bins. She wasn’t in the game of jumping on her officers unless completely necessary but by the same token members of her team going off on a tangent wasn’t how she liked to play things. This time he’d been successful. Next time he could have wasted valuable time they didn’t have on a wild goose chase.

  ‘I s-s-suppose you could call it that. I tried to work out how no one had seen them but we were all searching for a teenage lad and a ten-year-old girl. Then I remembered one of the train guards saying yesterday that he saw a young man in the company of his brother around Ellie’s age. So, I thought what if she’d changed her appearance? They were in a bin halfway down Augusta Street, which is a stone’s throw away from the station.’

  ‘But it’s only supposition that Stevens made her change her appearance. We don’t know for sure why her clothes were dumped, do we?’ she said, scanning his face.

  The room went quiet, no one wanting to put into words what they were all thinking.

  Gaby cleared her throat and, after picking up her drink, finished it in one. ‘Okay, anything else?’ she asked, scrunching up the can and aiming it at the nearest bin.

  ‘Their CCTV didn’t throw up anything so I’ve started pulling the footage from the surrounding train stations. Maybe he took her somewhere?’

  ‘Maybe he did.’ Gaby dropped her hip onto the edge of the table, only to stand at the sight of Jason walking through the door with a large tray clasped between his hands.

  ‘Ah, Jason, and with our lunch too. Take a seat. Here.’ She walked over to the desk he’d chosen and dropped a drink in front of him. ‘Never say that I don’t care.’

  ‘You’re all heart, Gaby.’

  ‘And don’t you forget it. So, what have you got for us?’ She picked out a tuna and cucumber and took a huge bite.

  ‘Not as much as you want,’ he said, holding up his hand as if to ward off one of her snappy comments. Instead of opening the can straight away, he lifted it up and rested it against his forehead. ‘It’s far too early for the DNA results to be back from the blood found at both houses and on the clothes – you are keeping me busy – but I can confirm some matches. We already know that Elodie Fry is blood group AB and that this matches the stain found in Janice Stevens’s bathroom.’ He lifted his head. ‘I can now confirm that this also matches the blood type found on the clothes Jax dropped off.’

  ‘You know I can never remember how blood groups work. Remind me again how many of the population are AB?’

  ‘Only about four per cent or thereabouts.’

  ‘Okay, not what I want to hear but good work, thank you. What else?’

  ‘There was also some hair, long blonde strands on the clothing, which will add additional proof one way or the other.’ He opened the can and swallowed it down in one without pausing for breath. ‘The clothes match the list supplied by the mother.’

  Gaby aimed a look in Jax’s direction, managing a small nod before returning her attention back to Jason, who was continuing to speak.

  ‘With regards to the other case, Mrs Matthews. Again there’ll be a hold-up with the DNA but the blood found in the hall is Group O, and therefore not as helpful as it’s shared by half of the population, but it does match the records we have for her at the hospital.’

  ‘Thank you. I’ll fill Owen in …’ She stopped, her attention on the corridor and the sight of Owen and Marie hurrying towards them. ‘We can tell them now.’ She jumped down and, walking towards them, held out the last of the cans. ‘We didn’t think you’d mind us starting without you. There’s a lot to catch up on.’

  ‘You’re telling me. Thanks for the drink,’ he said, flipping open the tab. ‘Just what the doctor ordered. What have we missed?’ He ambled across to his desk but instead of sitting, leant against the edge, his feet stretched out in front of him.

  ‘Not a great deal. Mainly we think that Stevens may have disguised Ellie as a boy, which is good news in itself as it may mean that she’s not dead.’

  ‘Because there’d be no point in changing her appearance if he was going to do away with her straightaway,’ Owen added, his face expressionless. ‘There is that.’

  ‘What about the Matthews case? We need some good news here,’ she said, propping against the desk. ‘And up to now the only positive is that she never had a hip replacement.’

  ‘There is a bit of a breakthrough, thanks to Diane and Marie,
not that it makes much sense. It looks like there’s some stuff missing from her house, small items that could be easily transportable but probably not enough for it to be worth anyone’s time and effort – as a motive for murder it’s a paltry one. I did get the impression that Matthews wasn’t liked. Her father had that old-fashioned sweetshop sited between what used to be Marie et Cie and the Take A Break Café in Gloddaeth Street. He was a real gent. It didn’t last two minutes without him behind the till. It’s the same story with items missing over at St Gildas, where Miss Jane taught up to her retirement. Anyway, we’ll make as good a list as we can and do the usual rounds to see if anyone knows anything about the missing goods but it’s likely that the stuff is probably out of Wales by now.’

  ‘I can type up the list and ping it across if you like?’ Marie offered with a smile.

  Gaby nodded, pleased that she seemed back to her old self. ‘Malachy, what about you? How are you getting on with the timeline?’ Gaby said, feeling restless and unable to settle. Instead of continuing to swing her legs back and forward, she hopped down and started passing around the sandwiches.

  ‘Nearly done, ma’am. Just typing it up. There is one thing that stands out though.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes. Ms Fry mainly cleans for people in and around the Colwyn Bay area but this does include the staff toilets and public areas of the Welsh Hills Memorial Centre and—’

  A phone rang, cutting him off. Everyone turned to stare across at Diane as she picked up her mobile and started to speak. It didn’t take her long to turn back to the team.

  ‘We have a lead, ma’am. They’ve spotted Janice Stevens’s car over in Caernarfon.’

  Gaby met Owen’s gaze, a torrent of memories flooding her mind, as his hand hovered between a cheese on brown and a ham on white. It hadn’t even occurred to her that Ronan would think to take her to the farmhouse. But it was ideal: isolated and remote. He could … Her thoughts lurched to a sudden halt, her brows drawn into a fierce line as she struggled to regain control.

  ‘Here, take these.’ She picked out a handful of sandwiches from out under Owen’s nose and wrapped them in a serviette. ‘No point in you missing your lunch. I’ll meet you outside in two minutes with the engine running. Diane, continue tracking Stevens’s car. Jax and Marie, begin by checking through the CCTV footage from Caernarfon station and take it from there. Mal, print a copy of that timeline ASAP. I’ll be able to work through it on the way.’ She ran to her desk, ignoring her jacket, instead picking up her mobile, only waiting an extra second or two for Mal who was sprinting back from the printer, his arm outstretched.

  Chapter 44

  Janice

  Tuesday 4 August, 12.30 p.m. Caernarfon

  For Janice Stevens parenting didn’t come easily. Following her degree, she’d been all set to become a barrister. She’d even managed to get called to the bar only to have her plans changed when she’d met and married Casper in a flurry of excitement after first love hit. Instead of a life in Chambers, she’d moved to Chester and then Llandudno and, instead of working lunches and late evenings ploughing through briefs, she spent her day assisting local businesses navigate through the minefield that was commercial law. In between her nine-to-five job, which was frequently eight to six, she ran the kids to and from their activities, managed a mountain of washing and produced an array of far from gourmet, kiddie-friendly meals. It was only when cancer hit that she realised burning the candle at both ends meant there wasn’t much in the middle to fall back on.

  For a woman to whom work had been everything, it was now only the vehicle to pay the bills, of which there were many. Having a husband on remand came with a host of unexpected costs, which drained her emotions along with her bank account. She was trying to hold on to the family home for the sake of the kids but everything else would have to go. Fate had thrown boulder-sized obstructions in her path, wrecking everything that was stable and turning them into dust. She’d picked herself up so many times that she didn’t flinch at the next obstacle flung under her feet. As far as she was concerned, when you reached rock bottom there was only one way left to go.

  Being a mother to three boys didn’t come with any instructions and she quickly found that she had to hone her instincts and moderate her tongue when dealing with her sons. Ronan was the most difficult and any effort on her part to mould him into anything other than the Ronan-shaped box he filled to perfection rebounded with far-reaching consequences. He’d broken her heart in all the ways possible and he was still breaking it despite having reached an age where independence beckoned. Sitting around her parents-in-law’s old table with a mug glued between her hands was the only thing stopping her from grabbing him into the deepest hug and never letting go.

  She didn’t take much notice of Ellie; all her focus was on her son. The girl was obviously hurting. She’d probably got herself into some sort of mischief at home and had struck on the idea of running away instead of facing the consequences. The only problem was that she’d chosen Ronan to save her. If he couldn’t sort himself out then there was no way he’d be able to sort out anyone else.

  Her mind pulled and stretched, trying to work a way out of her current dilemma. A way that would result in Ronan returning home instead of risking his future with his continued erratic behaviour. The problem was that she didn’t know what he wanted anymore. There was a time when it was easy to meet his needs. She only had to glance in his direction to be able to work out what was going on in that head of his. Now it was like understanding a book on algebra. Impossible on all levels. Ideally she needed to drop the dratted girl off at the nearest police station, leaving Ronan in the car so that he couldn’t get himself embroiled further in her little drama. He’d had far too much to do with coppers as it was.

  ‘I want my mummy.’

  It was like a blessing to hear those fateful words coming from the child’s bow lips. If she wanted her mother then what could be the harm in returning her back into the bosom of her family?

  Janice wasn’t stupid, far from it. In her job, she’d come across all types of crooks trying to con the system and she prided herself in her ability to assess someone’s worthiness from the outset. If she had any concerns when she arrived at the girl’s home, she’d resort to plan B – the nearest police station. That way she’d placate both Ronan and her conscience at the same time.

  Chapter 45

  Gaby

  Tuesday 4 August, 12.50 p.m. Caernarfon

  Gaby recognised the road even though she hadn’t been back. Caernarfon had been added to her reverse bucket list of places she never wanted to visit again. But here she was with the same man by her side, heading towards one of her worst nightmares. Her throat worked, trying to swallow when suddenly there wasn’t enough spit in her mouth to do the job. A few sighing breaths didn’t do much and clenching her hands only caused her muscles to ache. She relaxed her fingers, deliberately spreading them out across her trouser-covered thighs, the feel of the fabric slightly clammy to her touch. It was an insult to view a beautiful place like Caernarfon with such abhorrence but the brain was a funny thing. Just as she couldn’t dissociate the smell of pasta with thoughts of home, every time the place was mentioned, her mind dragged up a pictorial image of that farmhouse from her memory banks.

  ‘Do you need directions or do you remember the way?’

  Owen didn’t answer and she hadn’t expected him to. It was only something to break the silence as they reached the turning on the left that led to the dirt track circling the property.

  The farmhouse was like she remembered, the long low building surrounded by mature bushes and trees that were thick with foliage, making it difficult to see. But it didn’t take a genius to tell that the place was deserted if the empty driveway wasn’t evidence enough.

  Owen pulled to a stop and switched off the engine. ‘What next?’

  ‘Let’s have a scout around to see if there’s any sign that they were here,’ Gaby said, climbing out of the car and heading
for the front door, which remained closed under her touch.

  ‘I could break it open if you like? There’s a crowbar in the back.’ Owen offered.

  ‘I don’t like! You take the left and I’ll take the right. Meet you round the back in a mo.’

  Peering through dusty windows was all part and parcel of being a police officer. But the last time she’d visited the farmhouse the door had been unlocked, the untold horrors within waiting to be found.

  The back door opened under her touch, the hinges creaking under the weight of her hand.

  ‘Do you want me to go first?’

  She gave him a speaking glance instead of bothering to reply. Yes, she’d love him to. In fact, he could search the premises all by himself and she’d stand outside waiting for him like the spare part he was starting to make her feel.

  The hall was dark with that musty smell that comes with houses left unoccupied for too long. She left Owen to check the last bedroom on the left – nothing good would come from her revisiting it. Instead she scanned the kitchen and bedrooms on the right only to meet Owen back in the hall, a small teddy bear clutched between her fingers.

  ‘They were here.’

  ‘I know. Where to next?’

  Gaby’s brows met in the middle, trying to see beyond the tragedy unfolding out in front of them. The Stevens family were well past breaking point, and a wrong move could push them over the edge. But one thing about Janice had always been her strength. She was living proof that forging some kind of a life following a disaster was possible. Even with Ronan’s desertion, she’d managed to keep her head and keep her distance. An interfering mother was the last thing he’d needed, so watching from afar, while the local vicar kept a weather eye, was the very best of decisions.

  Gaby knew instinctively that, if it had been her in the same position, she’d have struggled to cope with the thought of her child living on the streets. But she wasn’t Janice Stevens. And with that thought, she knew that they were in trouble because there was no way she could ever think of herself in Janice’s shoes. She had no idea what the woman had been thinking going to the farmhouse and couldn’t begin to imagine where the trio were heading next. Instinct told her that Janice was a good person. After all, the judiciary was an unlikely profession for someone with criminal tendencies. In addition, if Ronan had broken the law, and that was a very big if, his mother would know all of the loopholes available to prevent him from serving a custodial sentence.